


Blue

by mxartbotboy



Series: The Typist and the Agent [9]
Category: Narcos (TV)
Genre: Again, Angst, Behind the bar, Bottom!Javi, Drinking, Emotional Sex, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, It’s Emotion Time Baby, Javi needs to learn how to use a phone, Lack of Communication, M/M, Memory flashbacks, Minor cumplay, Minor plot, Mouth-Fucking, One chapter is the holiday chapter, Public Sex, Romantic Blowjob, Secret-Keeping, Smoking, Smut, The reappearance of Trevor, Who just wants to dance, Working out the stress through sex, angsty smut, blowjob, featuring new minor character Sasha, letter writing, storage room sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-07 15:53:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26530201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mxartbotboy/pseuds/mxartbotboy
Summary: There’s something up with Javi. You try to be there for him as best you can, but there’s only so much you can do when he refuses to tell you what’s going on. And touch comes easier than words.~~Set during the second half of season two.
Relationships: Javier Pena/Male Reader, Javier Peña/Reader
Series: The Typist and the Agent [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1831069
Comments: 7
Kudos: 39
Collections: The Story of Javi/Male Reader





	1. Hurricane

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mochaaaa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mochaaaa/gifts).



It was no surprise to you that in Javi’s line of work he had a lot of bad days. You might only work in the office, but you read the reports. You knew the kinds of things that he was facing day in and day out, saw the bulletproof vests slung across the backs of chairs. Sometimes you would walk past and see Javi at his desk, a cigarette hanging out of his mouth, staring blankly at the typewriter in front of him. Those were the days he would come home late, but not too late, whiskey on his breath, and with needy hands that held on to you like he was about to fall off a precipice. You wondered if maybe some days he would.

There didn’t seem to be a point in talking about it. Comfort was something that you had given in the past, but not like this. Not for the reports detailing how many bullets Javi had shot. Not for the lists of injured and dead, not for those hands resting dully against the typewriter keys. All you could do was kiss him and let him take what he needed because the words wouldn’t come and for that moment you felt like all he wanted was to forget.

Some days it wasn’t so bad and he would smile and tease along with you, shooting secret looks across the office and brushing shoulders with you in the break room. You and him would go for drinks with some others and you’d watch him lose spectacularly at darts and joke with Murphy about his aim, all the while the group trading dollar bets about how many points Javi would be behind this time. And when you and him slipped away afterwards to your place he would make love to you like you were everything, whispering praise and love into your ear as you clung to him, sweat and skin mingling together.

It wasn’t a bulletproof vest for his mind though, and in the darkness as you tried to fall asleep he would pull you against him tightly to bury his nose in the hair at the base of your neck. His breath was there but his thoughts were not; they whirred away somewhere else, somewhere distant where men were cruel and greedy.

Whatever it is you were able to give, you always thought it would be enough. And then there was today.

It was a couple weeks after the city wide attack on the CNP. Things had been tense at the base ever since that day and Javi was barely coming back to your place to more than sleep. He was tired, like everyone was, but you knew that as one of the DEA agents in charge of catching Escobar, every day that passed had to feel like a weight Javi carried. He never said that he blamed himself. He didn’t have to. And when you came home to find him sitting on your couch staring into a half empty glass of whiskey, you could feel it hanging in the air like a thick shroud.

“Javi?” He was never home before you.

He doesn’t look up, just tips the glass in his hand to watch the liquid climb up the side and then takes another sip. You shrug off your jacket and toss it on the kitchen table before approaching and sitting next to him. Your thighs press together but you don’t reach for him, not yet.

“Rough day?” You can’t remember anything coming across your desk, nothing of note coming up in the office chatter. As far as you had known, it had been a quiet day at work.

Javi sucks in a ragged breath and drains the glass, “Yeah.” His eyes are still unfocussed and gently, you take the glass from his grip and place it on the side table. Before you’re even turned back around, Javi is tugging at your shirt and pulling you in. His lips are hard and you make a muffled sound at the suddenness of it, hands flying up to Javi’s shoulders. He pauses and then pulls back a fraction, instead resting his forehead against yours. You smooth your hands down his arms before lifting them to cup his face, stroking a thumb along his cheekbone.

“What do you need, love?” you ask.

Swallowing, Javi’s gaze meets yours, “You.” His grip in your shirt tightens, “But I can’t– but I need…”

He ducks his head down, resting his face in the crook of your neck, and slides his arms around you. Letting him hold you tightly, you lean your head on his, one hand brushing at his hair and the other moving around to softly rub at his back. You can barely breathe with how firm his grip is, but you don’t say anything.

“I need to not think right now,” Javi mumbles into your collar, “Please.”

Leaning back, you angle Javi’s head up and press a chaste kiss to his lips, tasting the whiskey. “I’m here, _mi querido_ ,” you whisper. And then you kiss him again, deep and heady.

Facial hair scrapes across your upper lip and you can feel eyelashes on your cheekbone. Hands pull at your shirt, run across your neck, tug at your hair, like he’s desperately trying to touch you all at once. It’s dizzying to have Javi around you like this, and it’s all you can do to keep up with his fumbling fingers. Both of your shirts are stripped, tossed carelessly to the floor and then you’re pushing him back, not once breaking away from his mouth. You end up between his legs, spreading them apart until his jeans are straining and he peels his hands away just long enough to start undoing his belt.

“Fuck me,” he pants, lifting his hips, and a spark of arousal drives down your spine. Hair falling across his forehead and eyes glazed, Javi has never looked so enticing as right now, asking to be fucked. He doesn’t give you a chance to respond and instead pulls you down to kiss you again, his pants halfway down his legs and his cock pressing into your abdomen. This time it’s bruising, all tongue and teeth. You can feel your heart pounding in your throat and you push away to sit up.

“Bed,” you gasp, dragging Javi up with you.

It’s a stumbling mess to the bedroom, Javi kicking his pants off halfway across the living room and you toeing you shoes off. Shoving him against the door frame, you kiss down his neck and grope at his hard length, thumb dragging across the wet tip.

Javi moans and tips his head back. Sucking hard at the skin beneath his jaw, you pull off with a wet sound, a hand snaking up the back of his head.

“You want my cock?” You push Javi down onto his knees, “Then you have to wet it first.”

He goes willingly, pulling your pants open and letting his tongue lave across the tip of your cock as he takes it in hand. Groaning, you lean one hand on the door frame and push Javi forward. He moans around your length, swallowing you down hard. It’s wet and messy, and you can’t help but rock into his mouth.

“That’s it, love, take it.”

Javi pulls his mouth off with a gasp, slicking his saliva down to the base of your cock, “Fuck my mouth, all the way. Don’t stop.”

The words are barely out of his mouth before he’s diving down again, gripping your hips and letting you hit the back of his throat. Your fist in his hair tightens and, panting, you begin short thrusts into that tight heat. Javi gags and you move to pull back, but he pushes forward, swallowing through it and hollowing his cheeks. You shudder, collapsing against the door frame, and grind into his mouth. Feeling the rumble of his moans around you, it isn’t long before you’re easing him off, running a hand through his hair. Sucking in harsh breaths, he leans his forehead against your hip and you’re both still for a moment.

“Is this okay?”

Javi looks up at you and yanks your pants down to your ankles before standing, “Please.” He kisses the word into your mouth, “Please, _chico_ , please, please…”

With a firm hand on his chest, you step out of your pants and push him back, back until his legs are hitting the bed, until he’s lying down, until you’re climbing on top of him and reaching for the lube. He groans when you rub two slick fingers against his opening, hips jerking, and you push one inside down to your knuckle.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he grits out, grabbing at the pillow under his head, “More, fuck, _more,_ I can take it.”

You add a second finger and begin pumping them in and out, watching with fervour as Javi starts to fall apart beneath you, stomach flexing and head tossing as you work him open. Your own cock is aching with need and it’s almost more than you can handle when you curl your fingers just right and Javi _keens_ in the back of his throat, bucking his hips. His cock bounces on his stomach, leaking across the dark hairs crawling up his navel and suddenly you can’t wait anymore. Your fingers are replaced by your cock pushing heavily through the tight ring of muscle and Javi’s legs squeeze around you, urging you forward.

“Yes, oh fuck, yes.” Javi is pulling you on top of him as you seat yourself, dipping your head on his shoulder covered in a thin layer of sweat. He’s so tight and hot that you forget to breathe for a second, running your hand up his side to ground yourself.

“You feel so good, Javi,” you gasp out, settling your hips on top of his, “Fuck.”

“Give it to me, _chico_.” Those words, whispered into your ear, practically set you on fire, and you start up a brutal pace, pulling out and thrusting back in with resounding slaps of skin on skin. You hook one arm under Javi’s leg and push it up to his chest, making your angle deeper. Javi’s moans jump up a pitch and you kiss him, open mouthed and breathy.

“Touch yourself,” you pant out, “Fuck, Javi, I want you coming on my cock.”

Jamming his hand down in between you, you can feel the movements of his hand as he jerks himself off, groaning loudly into your mouth. Your thrusts stutter as he tightens around you; you’re getting close but you want Javi to come first. You slow down to a grind, deep and intense, and Javi is wrapping his other arm around you, throwing his head back.

“Yes, yes, fu-uck, _chico_ , I-”

“Come on, Javi.”

His mouth drops open and his grip around you turns to iron, writhing under you as his hips jerk up. His orgasm ripples around you and you gasp, thrusting in hard and coming too. His breath is audible in your ear and you lift your head to kiss him through the last waves of pleasure, rolling your hips gently until you finally pull out with a groan.

You move to push yourself up, to go get something to clean you both off with, but Javi curls his hands around your hands, holding you there.

“Don’t. Stay.”

With a sigh, you sink down, ignoring the mess in between you two, and slip an arm around his shoulders to nuzzle into his neck. He wraps both arms around you, embracing all of your sweaty self as if he wanted to meld into you. Every breath fills his body beneath you, still quick as if he had been running.

You want to have words for him. Words to soothe whatever happened today, whatever would happen tomorrow. But with your sweaty, sticky bodies pressed together like this, there doesn’t seem to be anything you can say except;

“I love you.”

A small noise is muffled against your skin and Javi draws in a choking breath. You frown, pulling away suddenly, “Javi?”

He avoids eye contact, and your chest clenches when you see wetness on his cheeks, “Javi. _Mi querido_ , I…” Words. You need the words and you can’t find them. Instead, you rest your forehead against his, “I’m here. For always, alright?”

Shifting, Javi wipes at his face, “I know.” He pushes up onto his elbows, “Should get cleaned up.”

Javi doesn’t talk much for the rest of the evening, but pulls you close when you both climb back into bed.

“It was a bad day,” he murmurs into your hair, arm around your waist. You link your fingers with his.

“Tomorrow will be better.”

Maybe it’s just your imagination, but it feels like the whirring is less noticeable that night, Javi’s thoughts instead spinning around the word _tomorrow_. Just maybe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Starting off nice and angsty with this first chapter. This whole fic is definitely an emotional and sexy rollercoaster of a mess and I hope you enjoy the ride, if you plan on sticking around.
> 
> find me on tumblr at [mxartbotboy](https://mxartbotboy.tumblr.com)  
> 


	2. What'd I Miss

You tried not to let it hang too heavy over you, but Javi didn’t come over that night. Not a phone call, not a word. Eating dinner, watching TV, reading, nothing eased the tight coil of anxiety in your stomach or lessened the glances towards the phone. Eventually, you folded the page of your book and tossed it down on the couch in frustration. Javi was his own man and didn’t need you worrying about him. And he wasn’t obligated to come over to your place every night.

Feeling more like a pining teenager than anything, you decide it’s time for bed. Maybe Javi will come back late like he sometimes does. _Or maybe_ , you remind yourself as you turn off the lights, _He’s allowed to live his life and not come over for once_.

The rational part of your brain knows it’s true, but you don’t sleep well that night. You feel even less well rested when you wake up to an empty bed in the morning. It tugs at the back of your mind, even as you drive to the station absently. Ever since Colonel Carillo’s death, ever since you had come home not knowing how the weight of it sat on Javi’s shoulders, Javi had been more distant, always gazing off to something that only he could see. You had tried to be there for him, tried to understand, but it was something that went beyond the walls of the station, beyond the limits of your job. You only transcribed reports and memos, after all. Read about things after the fact. It was a different world for Javi, you knew.

When you arrived at the base, you fully expected to see him half slumped over his desk as you walked by, cigarette hanging out of his mouth as he poured over one report or another. Your stomach jolts when you only see Murphy, kicked back and drinking a coffee as he speaks on the phone.

“Morning,” Trevor greets blearily as you slide in across him, quickly reaching for the stack of folders in the inbox.

“Anything interesting come in?” you ask, trying to keep a casual tone to your voice. You flick through the stack of papers, scanning them for anything, _anything_.

Trevor shrugs, throwing back the last of his coffee, “Just the regular slog. Want one?” He wiggles his cup as an indicator.

You barely glance up, giving a slow nod, “Yeah.”

With each flip of a page, the panic begins to seep through you more and more. Nothing, like Trevor had said. Run of the mill work. No field reports, no Agent Javier Peña, no killed in actions. _You’re overreacting_.

“Hey.”

You look up, lowering the stack of files. Trevor is leaning forward with an uncharacteristic look of concern, “You okay?”

Plastering on a small smile, you shake your head, “Just tired. Some coffee would be great.”

“You got it, man.”

The coffee doesn’t help. You spend the whole day distracted, glancing over your shoulder every time someone enters the pit, snatching up every piece of paper that comes into the inbox. Trevor keeps giving you strange glances and you pretend that you don’t see. By lunchtime, you can barely focus on the typewriter in front of you and you push your chair back.

“I’m going for some fresh air.” You had to pull yourself together. This was getting ridiculous. Javi didn’t have a typical office job and something probably came up. Murphy had seemed relaxed enough when you had come in that morning; clearly he wasn’t concerned about Javi’s absence. You just needed a breath of something that didn’t smell like stale coffee and dust.

All thoughts of fresh air are chased from your mind when you enter the foyer. From the bottom of the stairs, you can see the two desks of the far end, pushed together. And standing there reading a file folder is Javi.

Your feet take you over before you can stop yourself. He looks up at your approach and he blinks, flipping the folder closed, “Hi.”

Just hi. A mixture of relief and annoyance flood through you and you flex your hands, “Hi.” You realize that you have no reason to have come over and suddenly you feel exposed standing here with Javi, like anyone walking by could read the barrage of emotions cycling through your mind.

“I-” You falter, scrambling for something to say, “Was getting a coffee.”

For a moment, there’s still confusion on Javi’s face. He holds the folder in his hands, fiddling with the top corner of it. And then the frown melts away and he ducks his head down to examine the folder, shifting.

“Yeah, um,” he tosses the folder onto his desk, “Yeah, I could use a coffee.”

You’re hyper aware of him as he walks behind you, feeling like everyone you pass is watching. The break room comes up on your left, and then you pass it. Javi doesn’t say anything, still close behind. You can barely hear anything above the pounding in your ears as you turn down the empty hall and when you open the door to the storage closet, Javi follows you in.

For a moment, you’re both swamped in darkness and silence. Your eyes adjust and you can just see Javi’s outline, shoulders held and tense. A cardboard box scrapes against the floor as Javi shifts and bumps it with his foot.

“Look-”

“Where-”

You both stop and Javi clears his throat, “You first.”

_Where were you?_ The demanding question had burnt out as quickly as it had lit on your tongue and instead you’re filled with a sense of relief, “I was worried about you.”

Javi takes a step forward, the mass of his body moving in the dark, “You don’t have to worry about me.”

“What do you expect me to do?” you ask quietly. The words have a bite to them and even in the dim you can see Javi wince, “I don’t know what you think this is Javi, but I’m not just some pretty boy you’re fucking.”

He doesn’t reply to that. You step right up to him; you can feel his breath on your face, “Because you’re not just that to me.”

Sighing, Javi presses his forehead to yours, “I’m sorry.” He sounds so tired in that moment that you wonder if he slept at all the previous night, wherever he was, “I should’ve called.” His hands slide up your arms and he grips the fabric of your shirt.

Something makes you uneasy and you cup his elbows, the leather cool under your fingertips, “What’s wrong, Javi?”

To your surprise, he chuckles, although there isn’t much humour behind it, “Don’t,” his arms wrap around you and pull you in close, “Don’t ask me that right now.”

And before you can question him further, he’s kissing you, hard. It’s needy and open mouthed and although a part of you wants to push away and ask him again, a larger part of you gives in, opens you mouth back and delves your fingers into the lapels of his jacket.

Navigating you through the maze of boxes spread across the floor, you’re reminded of the first time you two were in here, desperately acting on unsaid feelings. There was still desperation now, but it was different; darker and more primal. It wraps around you tightly as Javi pushes you up against the door, fingers fumbling at your belt.

“Say that you love me,” Javi breathes, kissing down your neck and pulling out your half-hard cock. You gasp at the touch and slide your fingers up the back of his head into his hair.

“Fuck, I-” Words are chased from your mouth for a moment when Javi sinks down onto his knees, teasing you into full hardness. His other hand grips at your hip almost painfully, holding them back when they jerk into his fist.

“Please,” Javi whispers before licking a stripe up the underside of your cock and your head tips back. You can hardly hold in your groan when Javi takes you down, your cock heavy on his tongue.

“I l-love you Javi, _ah_.” You gently stroke down the side of his face as he bobs his head, making little noises in the back of his throat, and your other hand covers the one latched onto your hip, “Fuck, that’s so good.”

Javi doesn’t let up, pumping his hand and sucking you until your knees are shaking and your breath is coming in short gasps. Your fingers are intertwined across your hip and the coil of anxiety in your stomach has turned into one of pleasure, one that’s going to spring any moment.

“That’s it, yes, Javi fucking _yes_.” You grind your hips forward and Javi lets out a short puff of air from his nose, squeezing your fingers hard as you come. Swallowing around you, Javi doesn’t pull off until you’re sagging against the door, breathing hard and audibly. His breathing mingles with yours and you slide until you’re sitting in front of him.

You reach forward, “Do you…?”

Javi catches your hand and instead presses it to his cheek, “No.” His stubble scratches your palm coarsely. You both sit there and you run a thumb over his skin.

“Tell me you’re going to be alright.”

He turns your head and kisses your hand before dropping his own away, “I’ll be alright.” There’s an edge in his voice, but for now you let yourself believe him. Quietly, he tucks you away and gathers you in, holding you tightly, “I love you. I’m sorry.”

You spend a few more minutes on the floor of the storage room, holding each other, until you pull Javi back, stroking his hair. “We have to go.” He helps you to your feet and you straighten out your shirt as best you can in the dark.

Out in the hall, the light is blinding and you have to blink a couple of time before your eyes readjust.

“I’ll see you later, okay?”

You look over at Javi and smile at the slightly rumpled hair. You point at your own and he quickly runs a hand through it to smooth it out.

Shaking your head, you walk past him back towards the break room, “See you later.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good old miscommunication. And, you know, Javi forgetting that he is in some kind of serious relationship. As per usual because Javi is loveable but a little oblivious when it comes to this thing called emotions. Hope you're enjoying these chapters as much as I enjoyed writing them!
> 
> find me on tumblr at [mxartbotboy](https://mxartbotboy.tumblr.com)


	3. It's Quiet Uptown

Whenever anyone wanted to go for a drink, there was exactly one place to go. It was Christmas Eve and Trevor had managed to convince you to hop along into one of the three SUVs heading into town, to a little hole-in-the-wall bar called Casa de Juan’s. It was a bit run down, but the tables were clean and was the only place the Americans could go without stares and getting double charged. Juan, the skinny old man who ran the joint, didn’t seem to mind the extra business, and certainly didn’t mind the bar getting half filled with a mix of DEA agents, office staff, and off-duty CNP officers for a holiday drink. The higher ups were having a good time at their own holiday party, so why shouldn’t they?

The guys had pulled some tables together, moving around the poinsettia centrepieces and ducking beneath the tinsel hanging from the ceiling. “Don’t break anything!” Juan had called from behind the bar. This wasn’t the first time a group from the base had descended upon his establishment, but he liked to remind them anyways whose place they were in.

Wedged in between Trevor and and a rather enthusiastic Andrés from accounting, you take another sip from your beer and glance at your watch. Ten thirty. You try not to grimace. Trevor had said that they wouldn’t be out too late, but it didn’t look like the festivities were going to die down any time soon. Someone had called for a round of shots, which you had waved off when they were passed around.

“What’s the matter?” Trevor nudged you, “It’s Christmas man, loosen up!”

You merely shrug and roll your eyes, “I can have a good time without getting plastered.” You tip your bottle in the direction of a couple of red-faced agents laughing raucously, “I’m not making a fool of myself.”

Trevor grins and shakes his head, “Whatever you say, old man. Hey,” he leans in conspiratorially, “Sasha’s been making eyes at you all night you know.”

Sasha was one of the secretaries, a pretty girl with short curly hair. She was across the table chatting with one of her friends, but Trevor was right. You hadn’t missed the glances your way and the way she had angled herself in your direction. The both of you were friendly but you weren’t about to delve into why you wouldn’t be chatting her up tonight.

“I don’t think so.” You shake your head and rest your elbows on the table, “Not my type.”

“Would you wing man me then? She’s definitely mine.”

You snort, “I’m not subjecting that poor girl to you. Sorry man.”

Whatever Trevor was about to say in response was interrupted by one of the officers calling out, “Hey Juan, we really gotta listen to this shit again?” He must have been talking about the song that had just started playing, some crooning Cristian Castro ballad that had been getting a ton of radio play.

Juan shouts back something in Spanish and the officer laughs, “Aw, _per favor_?” Juan waves a hand with a grumble and shuffles into the back. The music is abruptly cut off, and then replaced with something much more upbeat. The officer claps and a couple of the men cheer, jumping up and tugging away some of the girls to dance. Andrés slings an arm around you and lifts his beer into the air, shouting along to one of the lyrics, “ _Son los recuerdos que me hacen morir_!”

You duck out from under his grip and he laughs, stumbling up to join some of the others. Trevorchuckles, “At least he didn’t ask you to dance.”

His attention turns to whoever is sitting on his other side, leaving you to your beer. You pick at the label, peeling off the corner. Sasha is looking at you again and you give a small smile, not wanting to be rude.

A sudden elbow in your side makes you sit up and Trevor points across you with his bottle, “Look who showed up. _El gruñón_.”

You don’t have to look over to know who it is.

Sliding into the far end of the bar, Javi keeps his back turned to the group, hunching over on the stool like he doesn’t want to be seen. You frown, feeling conflicted. Javi had said he was working tonight; what was he doing at Juan’s? Pinching the corner of the label, you tear it off the bottle and crumple it onto the table. Javi says something to Juan and reaches into his pocket, pulling out his pack of cigarettes.

“I’m getting another drink,” you say, jerking your chair back.

The inch at the bottom of your bottle is incriminating, but Trevor doesn’t seem to notice. Instead he eyes you as he sips from his own. “Ten bucks if you can get Peña to come sit with us,” he calls out as you weave your way through the chairs.

Someone else, hearing Trevor, laughs, “Twenty if you can get him to dance!”

The urge to glare at the group rises up, but you push it down, beelining for the bar and Javi. He finally does look up at your approach and mild surprise crosses his face. He takes the cigarette out of his mouth, “What are you doing here?”

“Holiday drinks.” You sit next to him, feeling the brush of his jacket on your hip, “Trevor roped me in.”

“Ah,” is all Javi says in response. Juan puts a glass of whiskey in front of him and Javi nods, picking it up and downing it all in one go. You lean forward, examining his face. It’s tight and drawn, and you recognize the distant look in his eyes. He licks his lips and takes another drag, letting the smoke billow out along the countertop.

You glance over your shoulder. No one from the group seems to be missing your absence. Andrés was already sitting in your chair with a girl you don’t recognize in his lap.

“Javi,” you turn back to him, crossing your arms on the counter, “Did something happen?”

Pressing the heel of his hand to the side of his face, Javi looks over. He might not be touching you but his gaze was gripping. It was opposite to the exhausted way he sat, as if he barely had the energy to be there anymore. Something did happen; you can see it there on the tip of Javi’s tongue. He won’t tell you, though. He never does.

Crushing the end of his cigarette into the ashtray, Javi swings off the stool, leaning in towards you, “Meet me out back.” His voice cracks a little on the words and then he’s gone, shouldering his way past the crowd congregating at the bar. You sigh, regarding his empty glass for a moment.

Men are still dancing through the tables and singing loudly, tugging town the tinsel to drape it over the shoulders of laughing patrons. Clearly a popular song. You push yourself from the stool and head in the direction Javi went, dodging a server with a tray of shots. Looking around for where Javi might have gone, you spot a back door behind a large fake tree in the corner, dressed head to toe in red and blue tinsel.

It sticks a little when you push and you wince when it creaks as you open and step out into the cool evening air. The haze and noise of the bar is suddenly muted, making the back alley seem twice as quiet. Javi is leaning against the wall but he straightens when you step out.

“Javi, I don’t think-” You don’t finish your sentence as Javi pulls you in, nuzzling into the crook of your neck and pushing you up against the wall. Rough brick drags at the threads of your shirt and you try to get your hands between you and Javi. It isn’t bad, the way he’s kissing up the side of your neck, the way his hand is creeping up the front of your shirt, but there are words gathering in your mouth and you need to say them before Javi starts kissing you.

You manage to press your palms to his chest and push back just a bit, “Javi, wait.”

Dark eyes glitter under the light of the street lamps. You swallow under their intensity, squaring your shoulders, “Tell me what’s wrong.”

For a moment, you think Javi is just going to kiss you after all and eat up all of your protestations. Despite your hesitance, you know you’d let him because it was his way of asking for relief from the words he couldn’t say. And you loved him so much that when he asked, you couldn’t say no.

Instead, Javi drops his gaze to the space between you and opens his mouth, “How do you know if something you’re doing is a mistake?”

Something horrible curls in your stomach and you drop your hands away. Javi’s jerks his head back up, “It’s not us. It’s…” He runs a hand up your arm, squeezing at the shoulder, “Look, never mind. Forget I said anything, okay?”

You still feel uneasy, but that hand slides up to cup your jaw and you tilt your head into it without thinking. His hand is warm and rough on your cheek.

“Okay.” You press your hand overtop of Javi’s, “But for what it’s worth I think you’ll know. If it’s a mistake or not.” Curling your other hand around the back of his neck, you urge him forward until you can whisper in his ear, “For now, just touch me.”

Despite the words you’d just said, you don’t know if it’s a mistake to encourage Javi like this. You know he wants it, the way he kisses your ear and gropes at you through your pants, and maybe it isn’t bad to be like this with him for now.

Your whirling thoughts get sent to the back burner when Javi finally kisses you. It’s slow and intentional, like he’s drinking you up and savouring every moment of it, making you pull him tighter against you. Squeezing his ass and sliding a hand up his jacket, you grind harder into his hand and he groans into your mouth when he rolls his hips back.

It’s risky out here in the open, and you consider suggesting you both leave, but Javi’s hands are back up your shirt to smooth across your stomach and the need begins to boil up inside of you. You tug at his belt, working at his pants to free Javi’s hardening cock, and he gasps when you begin quick tight strokes.

“Need- you-”

Shuddering and moaning under your touch, Javi fumbles at your pants, resting an elbow above your shoulder against the wall, and pulls you out too. A noise echoes out of the back of your throat when he presses your cocks together, both of your hands wrapping around them to pump in unison. You rock into the grip, urging his hips forward with bruising fingers. The friction has you panting and kissing Javi with fervour.

“Want to come all over my cock, Javi?” you groan against his lips. In response, he kisses desperately down your jaw to your neck, where he begins sucking harshly at the skin there. You pick up the pace, grinding up, and Javi’s thrusting hips jerk.

“That’s it, _mi querido_.” Your hand travels up to his hair where you grip and hold him there, “Come for me.”

Javi makes a high pitched noise and his orgasm is what pushes you over, cum spurting out over both of your furiously pumping hands. Javi breathes hard against your neck, sagging a little bit. Pushing him back just a bit, you lift both of your hands and begin licking them clean, not breaking eye contact once with Javi. He watches with his mouth hanging open slightly, almost entranced until you’ve cleaned off both your fingers. You turn his wrist and lick a drop trailing between his knuckles before kissing them.

For the first time that night, a small smile crosses Javi’s face and he chuckles, “You almost make a man want to go again, _chico_.”

You lick your lips and smirk, “If you like.”

Shaking his head, Javi reaches down and tucks you both away, including the hem of your shirt. He smooths the shoulders out and you run a hand through his tousled hair.

“Want to get out of here?” he asks, flipping down your collar.

“Sure. Left my jacket inside though.”

Javi steps back and readjust his own jacket, “You go first. I have to pay for my drink.”

The bar is loud when you step back in, and you have to push your way through a much larger crowd of dancers before you get back to the table. You spot your again empty chair and the jacket slung across it and maneuver over to snag it. As you slip it on, though, a hand touches you arm and you turn to see Sasha.

“Hey,” she says loudly over the music, “I thought you’d left.”

“Just am, actually.” 

She shakes her head and leans forward, “What?”

“I’m just leaving!” you practically yell, and Sasha waves her hand.

“It’s still so early! Come and dance with me!”

Just as she loops an arm through yours, you spot Trevor coming back over. “You know who really loves to dance?” Stepping in front of him, you slap a hand down on his shoulder, “Trevor here.” You give him a pointed look, “I’m sure he would love to dance with you.” To your relief, Trevor picks up on what you’re saying and eagerly dumps his drink on the table, holding out a hand to Sasha.

“Trevor!” She grabs his hand, clearly glad to have anyone dance with her, and you give a grateful nod over her shoulder. Trevor just grins and follows her into the crowd of people.

As per usual, you meet Javi out at the car. He’s leaning against it, a cigarette burning in his mouth, and his slight cheeriness from before seems to have evaporated again. He doesn’t notice you coming up until you’re nearly next to him and he jumps when you speak, “Ready?”

Sticking the cigarette in his mouth, Javi reaches for the driver door, “Yeah, let’s go.”

You rest your hand on his, stopping him from opening the door, and you look at him. He looks back questioningly.

“It’s Christmas, Javi,” you say quietly, running a thumb over his knuckle, “Worry about it tomorrow.”

“Yeah.” He sighs, “You’re right.”

You release his hand and walk around to the passenger side, rolling your thoughts around in your mind. Work was getting to Javi, that much was obvious. _But like you just said_ , you tell yourself as you slide into the car, _Worry about it tomorrow_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I spent way more time than I should have building the bar scene and researching time period specific songs, but so is the life of a fanfic author. 
> 
> If you’re interested, the ballad that plays is 'Nunca Voy A Olvidarte' by Cristian Castro, and the song that everyone starts dancing to is 'Necesito tu amor' by Diomedes Díaz.


	4. Burn

Something smells.

Your eyes drift open, still heavy with sleep. The last dregs of whatever you were dreaming disappear into your mind and you wrinkle your nose, shifting in the bed. It’s familiar but you can’t quite place it. Thick and heavy, the scent curls up the back of your nose and stays there, demanding a spot in your senses. You roll over, a hand reaching out only to find cool sheets.

Pushing yourself up onto your elbow, you blink at the empty side of the bed. Then you roll back over and snag your watch from the bedside table, squinting at it in the darkness. Nearly three am. You sigh, tossing the watch back to its spot and rub the heels of your hands into your eyes. That’s when your sleep-filled mind catches up and places the scent. Cigarette smoke.

Javi is sitting on the edge of the small window next to the couch, which is pulled all the way open, shirtless. A cigarette dangles from his fingers, the thread of smoke rising from the glowing end and swirling into the open air outside. He lifts it to his lips, takes a drag and then taps it on the windowsill. When he exhales, he blows the smoke out the window, gaze locked on something distant.

You’d always had a rule about no smoking in the apartment. “I have to smell it everywhere else,” you’d said when Javi had tried to argue, “Let me have one place that doesn’t smell like an ashtray.”

He had begrudgingly agreed and put up with marching down to the main floor two or three times a night to have a smoke. At first, it had worried you that somehow he would visit less because of the annoyance but after that initial conversation, he never complained about it once. Now, catching him in the act though, you felt more amusement than anything else

“Javi?” Your voice croaks with sleep but he still jumps, jerking his arm back before probably realizing there’s nothing he can do to hide what he’s doing short of tossing the lit cigarette out the window. He looks down at the offending smoke and then back up at you bashfully. All it does is make you smile and you move to the window, leaning your hip against the frame.

Hesitantly, Javi lifts the the cigarette to his lips, eyes on you, and all you do is shrug and wave your hand, “You’re already doing it.”

You watch him smoke for a few minutes in silence, only broken by the hum of a car driving by once or twice. Javi’s face lights up when he inhales, illuminating the lines on his face and the shadows under his eyes. You want to reach out and touch them, smooth them away, take his hand and bring him back to bed, but you let him have his cigarette instead.

“Listen.”

You look up at Javi. He’s rolling the cigarette between his fingers, watching the burning ember. It flickers slightly, flaring up as the hot nub eats away at the paper and tobacco.

“I’ve…” The words catch in his throat and he takes another drag before continuing, “I may have gotten myself into some shit. Bad.”

Crossing your arms, you tilt your head, “Want to talk about it?” _How do you know if what you’re doing is a mistake?_ Javi’s words echo in your mind and you want to kick yourself. You let him distract you, distract himself, in that alley behind Juan’s. Why didn’t you press him more on it?

He taps the ash out the window, “I can’t. But,” he finally looks up, “If there’s an investigation, if they come for me, you have to look out for yourself first.”

“What?” Pushing off the windowsill, you let you arms drop to your sides, “What kind of investigation?”

“The kind that’s bad for you. You don’t know anything but…” He trails off but you both know what he means. A lump forms in your throat and you try not to let the pinprick of fear go crawling up the back of your neck.

“You said if, right?” you ask quietly.

Javi nods and reaches out to take your hand, “Yeah. But _if_ it does happen, protect yourself. Even if it means throwing me under the bus.”

Tugging you in between his legs, Javi crushes the end of the cigarette into the windowsill. You gesture at it with a sigh, “Javi, did you really-”

“Promise me.”

He’s staring at you with such intensity that you pull his hand up to your chest, letting the cigarette comment drop. “Don’t talk like that Javier.” Another car drives by and the glow of the headlights flash across his face briefly before he’s pulling you in, hugging you against his chest tightly.

“Please, just… promise.” His voice is low in your ear, and the words rumble through you even in their hesitation.

You pull back enough to cup his face and press a soft kiss to his lips. The tobacco is still fresh on his tongue, but it’s familiar and warm. He indulges it for a moment, letting his mouth linger on yours until he breaks it off, eyes dar

With a sigh, you square your shoulders and put on a faux serious face, “Javier Peña, I promise.” Making sure to emphasize the solemn tone of your voice, you still can’t keep the edges of a smile off. Javi dips his head down to your shoulder with a breathy chuckle and the fear from before melts away. His hands rest lightly on your hips and your scritch your fingers through his hair, the ends tickling your chin, “Don’t be so dramatic.”

He jerks up, frowning, “I’m not dramatic.”

Another smile crossing your face, you roll your eyes “Secretly smoking out the window in the middle of the night? Sure.”

Instead of replying, Javi just scrubs a hand across his face and stands, reaching up to close the window, “I should be sleeping anyways, I have to be at the base early tomorrow.”

“Oh?”

Javi waves off your curiousity, following you back into the bedroom, “We’re going after a big hit tomorrow.”

The sheets are cold when you slide underneath them, but you pull at Javi’s arm and he crawls over to your side. One arm rests under his head while the other loops over your waist. You can barely see his face in the darkness, backlit from the window in your bedroom.

“You’ll be careful, right?”

Instead of answering, Javi kisses you, shifting up to hover over your face. “I promise,” he murmurs. And then his lips are back, moving slowly and deliberately on yours. A pleasant sleepiness mingles with Javi’s touches, and you kiss back lazily, tracing the curve of his shoulder idly. Your eyes fall closed.

“ _Mi querido_ ,” you mumble, catching the hand sweeping across your stomach, “Sleep.”

Stubble scratches on your nose as Javi lifts and kisses your forehead before settling in next to you. His breath is light on your neck, dancing across your skin with every exhale, “I probably won’t be here when you wake up.”

“That’s okay, I’ll see you,” you press in closer, feeling sleep begin to take a hold, “See you later.”

“Yeah.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, _chico_.”

The smell of cigarette smoke still hangs heavy in the air, but this time it’s mixed with the warmth of Javi’s body and the feeling of his arm around you. You can still sense the tenseness radiating off of him and you rest your hand on his arm, dragging your thumb in a soothing motion. Soon, his breathing slows and evens out, enough that it lulls you into the depths of sleep too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No smut this time, but I figured these two needed a break to just talk. Also we’re pretty much at the end of season two by now and we all know how stressed Javi is XD
> 
> find me on tumblr at [mxartbotboy](https://mxartbotboy.tumblr.com)


	5. One Last Time

_“Are you sure this is a good idea?”_

_With a sigh, you turn in the kitchen chair, resting your elbow along the back. Javi stands there, awkwardly holding the pair of scissors that you had handed him, frowning._

_“You can cut in a straight line, can’t you?” you ask, pointing along the nape of your neck, “Just the bottom part where it’s curling up.”_

_Turning back around, you settle in, waiting patiently. Javi makes a frustrated noise in his throat and you feel him step up behind you. Fingers rake through your hair, pulling the strands as straight down as possible._

_“You sure you don’t need to wet it or something?” The unsure words are barely out of Javi’s mouth before you’re turning sharply, snagging the scissors out of his hand, lifting them up behind you, and giving a hard snip. The chunk of hair tickles your neck as it falls down._

_Holding the scissors back out to a wide eyed Javi, you raise a single eyebrow. Both of you are silent for a few moments before Javi takes them with a huffed out chuckle, “Fine, turn around.”_

_“Just make sure it’s even.”_

_He takes a long time before he’s finally smoothed the hair out enough to started trimming the ends, slow snips making their way across the back of your neck. The flat edge of the scissors is cool on your skin, opposite to the rough warmth of Javi’s fingertips as he brushes the hair away. He gently takes a hold of the back of your head and pushes forward, a prickle running along your shoulders where he rests the hand holding the scissors. A couple more snips and then Javi is brushing your neck with his palm._

_“There.”_

_You reach up to touch the shorter ends, feeling the blunt edge around where you had wanted it. Standing, you turn, holding out your arms, “How does it look?”_

_A smile crooks up at the corner of Javi’s mouth, “Good.”_

~~

The front door creaking open is what rouses you from sleep. Javi’s shoes scuff on the front mat, and there’s the tinkle of his key ring, the click of the door as it’s shut. You don’t open your eyes. You’ve long since stopped waiting up for him and you know he’ll be climbing into bed with you shortly.

His footsteps click on the floor and then stop. There’s a soft whoosh as the bedroom door is slowly pulled open and then nothing. Blearily, you push yourself up onto one elbow, blinking in the darkness. Javi hasn’t turned on the lights, so he’s just a shape in the doorway. Standing there, quiet.

“Javi?” You swipe a hand over your face, “Everything okay?”

He finally moves, still just a shadow, to sit on the end of the bed. Feeling uneasy, you reach out and turn on your bedside lamp, squinting as the yellow lights flares to life. Javi’s back is to you and he’s still wearing his jacket. He’s quiet, too quiet, and you swing your legs out of the bed.

Padding around, you sink down next to him, pressing your legs together. The silence is becoming overwhelming and while you want to reach out and touch him, something stops you. So you both sit there.

When Javi finally speaks, his voice is low and catches on the words, “I fucked up.”

You lean in, concern filling you up to your throat, “What happened? Is Murphy alright?”

Javi shakes his head. He still refuses to look you, “No, they…” He clenches his hands together, “They’re shipping me back to the States.”

~~

_Two beers clank in front of you, the liquid sloshing through the amber glass. “Gracias,” you say to the bartender before scooping them up and taking them to the table in the back corner where Javi is, already smoking. You hold out one of the bottles and he takes it, tipping it towards you and then taking a swig as you sit down._

_“Don’t you know it’s bad luck to drink without cheersing?” you ask._

_Javi gives you a look over his cigarette, “Didn’t peg you as the superstitious type.”_

_You shrug, reaching out and tapping your bottle to his, “Not really. Just for some things.” Javi shakes his head with a smile as you drink. It’s hard not to show it, but you’re a bundle of nerves. While you know that you and Javi in your shirts and ties looks like nothing more than two guys having a beer after work, it feels like so much more than that. The memory of Javi pressed up to you in the storage room is still fresh in your mind and when he’d asked if you’d wanted to go for a drink a few days later, you’d said yes before you had really thought about it._

_Something still nagged at the back of your mind, telling you that despite what Javi had said, maybe he wanted nothing more than that and this was his way of letting you down. You also told yourself that if Javi really wasn’t still interested he wouldn’t have asked you in the first place, but the uncertainty was hard to shake. You take another drink, swallowing hard and holding the bottle loosely between your hands._

_Javi leans back, “My mom was superstitious. Salt over the shoulder and everything.” He takes a drag, “Never believed in it myself, suppose I picked that up from my dad.”_

_“Well, you never know.”_

_Javi had mentioned his dad a couple times nows in your passing conversations outside the embassy and in the break room, but never his mother._

_Falling back into silence, you take another drink to occupy yourself. It isn’t until you feel a tap against your foot that you look up. Javi doesn’t say anything, but he’s regarding you with the kind of look you would describe as disarming. He jerks his chin towards you and crosses a leg over his knee, “Tell me about your day.”_

_Your chest lightens a little._

~~

It takes a moment for the words to sink in, “What?”

Javi finally looks up. The lines in his face are heavy and you barely make eye contact before he’s looking away again, “I’m flying out tomorrow morning.”

This time, his words are like a punch to the gut. “ _What_?” Tomorrow morning? Your mind is whirling, and suddenly your breath feels trapped in your chest. You’d heard about agents getting sent back, for either administrative or disciplinary reasons, but not with less than twenty-four hours notice as far you had remembered.

Legs jittering, you stand and take a few steps. Then you stop and turn around. Javi is watching you apprehensively, twisting his hands together. What had he done to warrant this? You want to ask but the question sticks in your throat and instead you lean back against the wall. The firmness of it along your back grounds you and you close your eyes, dipping your head down. You take a deep breathe.

“So what, then?” you ask instead. From how Javi was acting, they certainly hadn’t caught Escobar and wouldn’t be closing down shop at the base. Even then, your job was at the embassy. The answer might have been obvious, but you refused to let the thought formulate.

You hear Javi stand, the bed squeaking as his weight lifts. You open your eyes. He looks so tired, his hands hanging by his sides, clenching and unclenching them.

“I came to say goodbye.”

“What kind of goodbye?” Even you are surprised by the edge of anger lining your tone. You know that whatever happened likely wasn’t Javi’s fault and no way would he ever choose to abandon his job here, but you hate the way he’s looking at you, the way his eyes briefly connect with yours before darting away again, as if he can barely face what he’s about to say.

“The DEA needs good people like you working here. And I would never-” he clears his throat, “- _could_ never ask you to leave.”

“So that’s it then?”

Javi’s face hardens, and you can hear the frustration creeping into his voice, “Fuck, you think I want to get sent back?”

You shake your head, “No, but you’re acting like you’ll never see me again.”

He gives a hollow laugh, “Who knows if the government will ever let me back in.”

“So you’re just,” you wave a hand, “Leaving?” It’s not fair, the way you bite it out, but you can’t help it. Can’t help feeling angry that it’s the middle of the night, can’t help that you’re tired, can’t help how stupidly in love you are with a man who is getting kicked out of the country.

“I can’t ask you to hold out for me,” he says brokenly. His eyes are shining, “I can’t.”

“Oh, fuck you.”

Javi makes a muffled noise of surprise when you kiss him, fisting your hands in his shirt and yanking him forward. It’s bruising and hard and when he grabs at your shoulders you don’t know if it’s to pull you in or push you away. But he opens his mouth, kissing back just as hard. Your teeth scrape together and his arms slide tight around you. You don’t want to talk or think anymore, and you shove his jacket off, letting it drop to the floor. The jacket that you remember wearing, remember feeling against your skin, remember seeing Javi in for the first time and your heart lurching.

You can’t remember your heart hurting this much.

~~

_The harsh fluorescent light from the break room hurt your eyes and you rub at them with a sigh. Across the room, the large clock reads seven twenty. Far too late to still be at work. Still, the backlog from today had been horrific and you’d rather get it done than have the work you’d fell behind on hang over your head for the next week._

_So, rather begrudgingly, you head over to the coffee maker. Annoyingly, there’s barely a drop left in the bottom of the pot and you start the process of making a new one. Once you get it filled and turned on, you lean against the counter to wait, stifling a yawn. At least the over time would be good._

_Andrés makes his way in and beelines it straight for the fridge, pulling out a half-eaten sandwich and settling in the back corner to eat. He gives a small wave and you nod in response. There’s still enough activity this time of night to make it feel like things are happening down on the main floor, but up in the office pit it was eerily empty. It was nice to come down and see people, even if it was just for a cup of coffee._

_You look up when someone approaches and you blink at the sight of a bright red shirt. Peña gives you a once over and then glances over your shoulder at the slowly filling pot. Without a word, a few feet down, he also leans against the counter, crossing his arms._

_You feel the need to fill the silence and you tip your head over to the machine, “Some idiot didn’t make a new pot.”_

_“Yeah,” Peña says, not looking over, “That happens this time of night.” You try not to let your gaze linger too long on the notoriously moody DEA agent. The office talk about his looks certainly hadn’t been lying, although he seems to have a permanent frown on his face from what you’ve seen and now is no exception._

_Opening your mouth to make what would probably be another dumb comment, you’re interrupted by the beeping of the machine and you turn. Peña doesn’t move; at least he respects that you made the pot and have first dibs. You grab one of the clean mugs sitting upside down on a dish towel and pour a steaming cup, the scent already reviving your senses a little._

_You’re not sure what makes you, but you hold out the mug towards Peña; it’s chipped and white, save for the pink orchid that was the national flower of Colombia printed on the side. He eyes it warily, and then takes it._

~~

It’s a tangle of fingers and shirts and legs as you push Javi back onto the bed. His mouth is hot on yours, already feeling swollen from how hard you’re kissing. He slides himself up, shoving his pants down and kicking them off. You’re flat on top of him, hands in his hair and simply refusing to pull back.

Bare arms wrapping around your back, Javi grinds up and you both groan. He pushes at your sweatpants and you roll onto your side to pull them off. Javi moves on top of you, breathing heavily and hair a mess, looking as desperate as you feel.

“Don’t stop,” you whisper, grabbing the back of his neck. And then he’s kissing you again, your upper lip raw from the friction of his moustache. You don’t care. With barely a breath between you, Javi ruts against your thigh and you encourage him, one hand on his ass and the other running up his back.

It’s too much and not enough. Panting into your mouth, Javi blindly reaches out, fumbling at the bedside drawer. Spreading your legs so he can settle between them, you kiss down his throat, sucking harshly at the skin. Gripping your hair and tilting your head up, Javi finds your lips again as he pushes in one slicked up finger. He kisses you through the first finger and then the second, swallowing your moans as you cling to him.

He’s just down to the last knuckle when he’s pulling out and replacing his fingers with the wet head of his cock, lifting one of your legs. The stretch burns but you take it, encouraging him forward with small rolls of your hips. You feel like you can barely breathe as Javi fully seats himself and then begins fucking you with long, slow thrusts.

Gasping out your name, Javi presses his forehead to yours, lips only just brushing and elbows bracketing your head. You pull him in closer, as close as he can get while still being able to move and splay your palms across his shoulder blades, feeling the muscles flex beneath your touch. Javi picks up the pace, his hips slamming against your thighs and you can’t help grinding up into it, the friction of your cock between your stomachs almost unbearable.

Javi breathes across your cheek, ducking his head down, “Fuck.” You wrap your arms around his neck and hold him there, one hand slipping up to cradle the back of his head. You’d always taken these small moments for granted; when was the last time you held him like this, the last time you had just listened while he fucked you?

“I love you,” you gasp, unable to tell if it was a sob or an orgasm bubbling up and he turns his face into your neck, his hips stuttering. You’d do anything to have this moment last forever, just like this, you and Javi together like this with him whispering _I love you_ back in a cracked voice.

Instead, you feel your orgasm shoot up your spine and you cry out, tipping your head back into the sheets. A noise escapes from Javi’s throat as he comes too, burying himself inside of you once, twice, and then holding.

For a moment, neither of your move. Then, shifting, Javi lifts his head, hair flopping down into his eyes. You stare up, holding his face.

“Let me,” Javi pulls out with a grunt, pushing himself up, “Let me get something.”

You don’t want him to leave, your fingers trailing along his arm as he stands, but soon he’s sitting beside you with a roll of toilet paper, cleaning your stomach and your ass. The movements are gentle, lingering.

“Javi.” You grasp his wrist when he tries to stand again, “Wait.”

He sighs, running a hand through his hair, “I can’t stay.”

Something in your chest twists horribly, but you don’t let go, “Please call.”

The hand you’re holding moves forward to cup your cheek and then pull you in for a tight embrace. He smells like sweat and Javi and it’s the most perfect thing you could think of. “They’ll be monitoring me. I can’t.”

Pulling back, you stroke along his jaw, “Write then. Fax me, I don’t care.”

“Do you promise to do what I said?”

_If they come after you, throw me under the bus_. Blinking, you nod. Javi sighs, and then kisses you. “I don’t know when. But I’ll write.”

Javi dresses and you walk him out to the kitchen. Pulling a small notebook out of his jacket, he scribbles down an address and tears the sheet out. “I’ll probably be staying with my dad for a bit. That’s his address.”

You hold the paper like it’s precious, staring down at the scratchy writing. You look up when Javi holds something else out. The key to your apartment. Swallowing down the lump in your throat, you take it and set it on the table.

“I have to go.” Javi looks like the last thing he wants to do is leave, his mouth pressed together tight. Taking his hand, you lift it to his mouth and kiss the palm, closing your eyes and trying to memorize the smell of his skin. He steps forward and gives you a soft kiss; a lasting, chaste touch on your lips that he slowly pulls away from.

The door feels too final when it closes behind him.

~~

_“Thanks.” Peña doesn’t move as your pour your own coffee. To your surprise, he walks along with you and you leave the break room together. He still doesn’t say anything and you take a hesitant sip. The hot coffee tingles on your tongue and you press it to the top of your mouth to soothe it._

_“Working late too, then?”_

_You look over at Peña, “Just catching up on some things.”_

_Peña nods, “There’s always something to catch up on, eh?” His sudden chattiness catches you off-guard, but it isn’t unnecessarily unwelcome. In fact, you feel slightly pleased that the so-called_ gruñón _of the office was making conversation with you._

_The hallway ends, opening up into the main foyer. Just as you would break off from him, Peña stops and holds out a hand. “Javi Peña,” he says. You take his hand, large and firm, and shake it._

_“Nice to meet you. See you around?”_

_For a moment, something glimmers in his eyes, though you could hardly call it a smile._

_“Yeah, see you.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This hurt to write, but I promise it’s not the end for these two. Short epilogue coming soon!
> 
> find me on tumblr at [mxartbotboy](https://mxartbotboy.tumblr.com)


	6. Epilogue

Hey,

I’m sorry it took me so long to send you something. I’m not much of a writer. More used to a typewriter, funny enough.

I’ve been staying in Springfield since they sent me back, so I’m sorry if you’ve mailed me anything. I think I’m waiting on a meeting with the review board. You’ve probably seen the news by now or at least heard about it in the office. People talk there. Maybe you won’t want to write me back, who knows.

I’m not sure what I should say. Ask how you are? Probably better now that you’re not working out of that shit office at CNP. Or living out of that shit apartment. I’m staying in some motel the DEA has put me up in. Not the greatest.. Better than bunking with Murphy I guess. Not that I was doing it that much before.

I don’t know if we should do this. Maybe a letter isn’t the best way to talk about it. This is a terrible letter.

Maybe I should say I miss you. I miss you. I’ll call. I’ll call soon.

Javi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that’s all for now! There will be more work coming soon, so stay tuned for that, if people have even remained interested throughout my Narcos fanfic writing frenzy. Thanks so much for reading!
> 
> find me on tumblr at [mxartbotboy](https://mxartbotboy.tumblr.com)


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